


Date Night - Carry On countdown

by I_dont_shave_for_phan



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Date Night, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 06:20:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9422282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_dont_shave_for_phan/pseuds/I_dont_shave_for_phan
Summary: It's Simon's infuriatingly perfect boyfriend's turn to take them out on a date. However, it doesn't seem to be a date of the usual kind.





	

Simon

“Hey, Snow.”   
I grumble under my breath at the use of my surname, but look up from my cosy seat in front of the fire. Baz (the love of my life, the apple of mine eye - my boyfriend) leans against the doorframe of the lounge I share with Penny, as smug, arrogant and gorgeous as ever.  
“You should really learn to knock, it’s considered courteous in normal society,” I gripe at him, slightly flustered at being caught unawares, but he simply smirks. The bastard. I go back to the book I was reading before he interrupted, determined not to leap up and fawn over him like some kind of doting puppy like I always have the urge to. I don't hear him cross the room, but after a few moments I feel his arms slip around my waist, and his lips pressing against the nape of my neck. I have to force down both the heat rising to my cheeks and the upturned corners of my mouth, determinedly keeping my eyes focused on the pages in front of me.   
“Have you forgotten..?” Baz whispers into my shoulder, and I feel his lips curl up again.  
“Forgotten what?” I still don’t turn - it’s probably just a trick to make me pay him attention.   
“It’s the first Thursday of the month.” And I groan as I remember. Of course - it’s date night. How could I forget? God I hope it’s not my turn to think of something, I’m no good at thinking on my feet. Baz chuckles as I finally turn around to face him, resigned to an evening of feigned hurt and jibes about being a terrible partner. I open my mouth to apologise, but he stops me with a swift kiss on the lips, still smiling.  
"No need to look so panicked, Snow, it's not your turn." He leans back, and I look at his casual jeans (still make me blush slightly) and over-tight t shirt in confusion.  
"But...you don't exactly look dressed for the occasion. No offence or anything."   
He smirks and pulls me to standing, fingertips briefly brushing against my cheek (almost accidental - almost but not quite) before he starts to walk back towards the door, throwing his answer over his shoulder like a pinch of salt:  
"Where we're going you don't need to dress fancy."

* * *

"Ok, just to double check, we're definitely not going to some underground vampire gang bang?"   
Baz shoots me a slightly dangerous glare before answering.  
"No, Snow, we are not. And before you ask, no I’m not going to murder you, or kidnap you, or try and turn you. Now can you please shut up and just let me drive."

* * *

By the time Baz stops the car, I’m practically vibrating in my seat with curiosity, and I leap out before even the engine cuts off. Which I soon realise was a big mistake, as my feet sink several inches further than expected, and I groan as I step out of the muddy mire I had landed in.   
"I swear I didn't park this car deliberately so that you'd do that," Baz says, innocently enough to assure me that he had, in fact, done just that.   
I stop myself from punching him by turning and examining my surroundings. Baz has parked just inside a cattle gate which opens onto a steeply sloping woodland, the trees densely packed together with only a narrow path leading forward into the darkness. My breath billows in the crisp air, and after a few seconds is joined by Baz's as he takes my slightly reluctant hand in his own warm one.   
I don't bother asking why we're in the middle of nowhere on a frosty November night instead of at some new restaurant like usual, certain he'll simply say something mysteriously ambiguous. Instead I tread with him up the path and into the muffled closeness of the trees, silent but for our breaths and the crackle of leaves and twigs beneath our synchronised steps.  
The canopy above our heads obscures almost all the light, except for the occasional chink of silver moonlight streaming onto the forest floor. When it does, I can't help but sneak a glance at the man walking beside me, drinking in how the shadows flit along the line of his cheeks and his already milky skin turns almost luminescent. I think he knows I'm looking, but he doesn't make any comment, just keeps stepping one foot in front of the other.

Baz

I'm pretty sure Simon caught me staring at him, but he doesn't seem to care. I should be more careful not to make a fool of myself, but I can't help myself; his eyes are almost completely black in the dark, except for a glint as they catch the faint light. But his normally warm hair is transformed to white gold, glowing and hanging just low enough to lightly feather his rich skin.  
I'm nervous for tonight; what if it doesn't work? What if it's a bit anticlimactic after all this? What if it's amazing, but Simon just thinks it's a bit lame? I try to calm my swirling thoughts, and squeeze Simon's hand a bit tighter.  
We walk for another few minutes before we reach the top of the wooded hill, and the densely packed trees spread, then disappear altogether to make way for a clearing. This is it, no time for a last minute change of plan now. I look at Simon just as turns his head to me, and smile slightly before pulling him forward into the open space.

Simon

The clearing, from what I can tell in the pale light, is hard packed soil with the occasional bushy shrub, and just about large enough for a spaceship to land in. I'm not sure when that became a unit of measurement, but I'll stick with it. The lack of branches sheltering the ground means that it is carpeted with white light, turned 2D and surreal by the moon, which slides up the sides of the ring of trees surrounding.   
Baz leads me to the centre, quieting my quizzical look with a trying-to-be-mysterious smile, before positioning me in front of him, close enough that I can just feel his warmth between us. Then he finally speaks.  
"This is where I come to practise my magic." He says it softly. I lower my gaze slightly, not sure what I’m supposed to do with this information. I lost my magic almost a year ago, but it still aches when I remember and feel the loss of simmering power under my skin.   
However I didn't know that Baz had dedicated time and space for practising his magic, but on consideration it makes sense that he wouldn't want to do it around me. He gazes at me now, and I look back into his eyes as he takes my other hand.   
"Relax, Snow. And keep your eyes open."   
Frowning slightly in confusion, I do as he says, and he squeezes my hands and starts to murmur an incantation.   
As he does, my vision seems to shift slightly, but I soon realise it's not my eyes, it's the clearing; as I look around, wide eyed, it starts to ripple and flutter. I start and clutch at Baz as the ground dissolves beneath my feet, focusing on his face as the world around us disappears. He smiles at my look of shock, and it is a rare, genuine burst of happiness from him, his eyes sparkling.  
"Baz, wha-"  
"Shh, Simon. Just watch."  
I do. I watch as the blackness becomes irregular and little spots of light twinkle into existence all around. My breath catches in my throat as we're suddenly floating in a sea of stars.   
Despite the awe inspiring view, I look back at Baz. He is still focused on me, his own face bathed in soft light from all directions, his dark eyes cast hazel and glowing, ethereal. The illumination brings out flecks of yellow that I never could have guessed were present. I can't help but let out a light laugh of delight, at his astounding beauty, at the stars, at the fact that we appear to be floating in space and I have no idea how.   
Baz tugs on my hand, and we speed through the darkness towards one of the shimmering lights hanging before us, and it grows and grows until it becomes almost half the size of earth. Its surface flickers with pale flames, warming my face.  
"Baz," I start cautiously - the fire looks worryingly real and we're still floating closer. But he ignores my concern and I almost panic as we settle into the heat, but soon realise that it isn't harming us. The flames ruffle across my legs, but do nothing more than gently warm my skin.  
Baz turns to me as we stand there, on the surface of the...planet? And bends to scoop up a handful of the unsubstantial material burning. I blink, and it is encased in a thin film of glass, an orb of white fire, which he places in my hands.  
"A souvenir."  
I can barely speak, still utterly stunned by my situation, my mind not quite caught up with what is happening to my physical being.  
"What is this?" I ask Baz, "What spell is this?"   
He smiles again.   
"It's one I've been working on for a while.’Love is all around us.' It takes your idea of what love is, and turns it into a sort of 4D experience, using all 5 of your senses."  
I nod, but I'm slightly puzzled as to why Baz's idea of love is...space. He must notice my expression, as he continues his explanation, although he looks down slightly and...is that a slight pink tinge to the vampire's cheeks I see?  
"Do you remember that night? At Watford." He is uncharacteristically hesitant. "After you tried to kill the dragon, and then you kept wanting to see if you could channel your power through me again." I know which night he's talking about. How could I forget that night? When we flew up and saw the stars...  
"Well, that night, something...changed for me. I had known I had feelings for you for a while, but it was then that I realised I loved you."  
He meets my gaze.  
"I love you, Simon Snow."  
My eyes definitely don't get a little moist, but then Baz grins suddenly.  
"Despite how utterly ridiculous you are."  
I punch him in the arm and laugh, glad that he didn't wait for a reply, because I don't think I could have choked one out.  
So I kiss him, and we stand kissing on a giant ball of flaming gas for an eternity, because living clichés is so much more enjoyable than telling them.


End file.
